


Do Entities Get Jealous?

by StripestheBoar



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: (Beholding is Jacob), Beholding Kink (The Magnus Archives), Beholding rewards Its Archivist, Fantasizing, Good feelings all around, Happy Ending, Jon loves Martin, Jon reaches ultimate post nut clarity, Kinda, M/M, No actual sex, Someone does nut tho, Voyeurism, handjob, if you get what I mean, initial worry, metaphysical handjob really, oh boy it’s a love triangle, solo male
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:14:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26388505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StripestheBoar/pseuds/StripestheBoar
Summary: Pre episode 160.Jon is preparing to make a statement to his patron, but stops to consider his relationship with Martin, and questions what it would mean for Beholding to have to share Jonathan’s devotion with a mortal.The Eye responds.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, The Beholding/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 5
Kudos: 92





	Do Entities Get Jealous?

The boxes of statements they had stolen from the archive wouldn’t last forever, this much Jonathan knew, but he figured they would suffice long enough for him to figure out a system to extract the fear his patron desired. The ever hungry Eye drank in all the terror Jon could provide, and in return, It sustained him. Mutual symbiosis, one may call it, but according to the vessel the fear was channeled through, It was rather parasitic. Or, that was what he told himself. 

As the days pressed on and each statement was given a read, Sims had found himself enraptured in the torment and pain of the ones who suffered for the entities. He wouldn’t say he liked or enjoyed it, more that the experience enraptured him; filled him and satisfied him in a way that left him feeling…  _ right _ . At times, he wondered if this was the Beholding’s doing; a way of rewarding him for feeding It. Filling his body with sensations that calmed the hunger and stoked a warmth in his body he had grown to like. 

Despite initially being an unwilling participant, Jonathan would describe his bond with his patron to be a mutually beneficial one if it only required reading the words of those in terror of the entities that had them trapped. He didn’t even need to eat anymore, as weird as it may be explaining to Martin that he sustained himself purely on horror.

Jon paused when flipping through statements, not having left the edges of that final thought. Speaking of Martin.

His newest addition to his personal life brought on many new questions as to where things would go from here. Jon loved Martin; a spark had been set inside his soul that he hadn’t felt in years since he’d split with Georgie. His touch was like honey on his skin, holding him with a gentleness that made the Archivist feel safe. When they kissed, all thoughts of fear and worries of Knowing left Jon, shutting the Eye out in these blissful moments and allowing him to focus on the only person who mattered to him. Martin grounded him and kept him afloat at the same time, never letting him fall or become too lost within the Beholding’s presence. And it was that which worried Jon.

Would Martin’s being in his life affect Beholding?

It was in that moment that a familiar click was heard beside him, followed by the whirring of cassette tape that signaled a watcher.  _ The  _ Watcher. Jon looked to the tape curiously, brow raised to his hairline at what appeared to be keen interest from that which drank in all. 

“Don’t tell me you’re interested in my love life, too,” Sims questioned his deity. “Afraid of becoming the third wheel, are you?” He was hoping another click would signify the tape’s end; that the Eye would lose interest and Jon could get back to choosing a statement to feed It. And yet, the tape whirred on.

“I suppose I do smell of fear, don’t I?” the Archivist spoke aloud, lips pursed as he pushed the box to the side. Elbow propping him up, he limply rested his head in his palm to stare at the listener. “You expect me to ask you questions I know you will never answer? Will that satisfy you?” 

It would be mutually satisfying, really. Jonathan simply wanted to speak his mind to a god he didn’t know would even understand the words he spoke. He fed It fear through information, but could an entity really understand said information? They had to, Jon guessed, as fear would be hard to draw if one could not process how the fear was created or what the terror was formed by. If It only took fear in general, there would only be one entity. So he would speak his mind to Beholding, allowing It to Know in vain hope of getting some sort of response. One would think the seer of all information and secrets would be able to to let Its vessel Know Its desires, but that never was the case. Not mysterious enough, apparently.

Jonathan let out a breath with a puff of his cheeks, telling the tape, “We might as well make this official. Thankfully Martin is busying himself in the village, so you don’t have to be shy about speaking up at any time. Just the two of us.” Hands clasped together, he spoke that phrase. “Statement of Jonathan Sims, regarding his relationship with Martin Blackwood and the entity known as the Beholding. Statement begins.”

There was a moment of stillness where he wasn’t actually sure how to start. Given it was only the two of them, he decided to go off of what was on the top of his head, no matter how odd it sounded. “Do entities get jealous?” He instinctively paused, as if waiting for an answer, before realizing he couldn’t Compel a god and continued on. “I would hope not. I’m sure you lot have more on your metaphysical hands than getting clingy with one of your devout followers. And yet… I’ve been thinking about Jude Perry a lot recently. Her statement about how she became a part of the Desolation. Murdering and feeling that love swell in her heart as the man she had killed was alight. She had Agnes, and her initiation seemed to have borne fruit. A connection had been set between Jude and her patron that filled her with love and devotion. But…” His gaze turned to the window, watching the beginnings of a drizzle be released by the clouds in the vast sky. He hoped Martin had been mindful enough to bring an umbrella. “But I remember her telling me that she was dating at the time. In love with another woman whom she lived with. Who was there for her spiral downwards, and was witness to Jude setting herself alight.” He grimaced, remembering the graphic descriptions given of Perry’s descent, or  _ ascent _ , as she no doubt would have described it. “It was clear they were in love, and yet Jude chose her deity over her partner. She didn’t have to set herself on fire in front of her, but she  _ did _ , because she  _ wanted to _ .”

His gaze flicked back to that tape recorder, the fear of Jude’s implications brewing in his stomach. He would rather that this statement be a waste of time; that it wouldn’t feed the Eye, as that would mean It had no feelings over the matter. But the tape whirred on, beckoning him to speak more. Jon hesitated, but knew he couldn't keep himself from speaking his mind. “Did the Lightless Flame want that? She had her connection to her god, and yet this grand display seemed wholly unnecessary. I can—  _ somewhat _ —understand why she would set herself alight given her newfound family with the cult. But was this the desire of the Desolation?”

He considered the tape, tapping his finger softly on the table. The Watcher was waiting for him to say his questions. It wasn’t enough that he thought it— no, he needed to speak it. The Eye needed to hear it and soak in the apprehension he radiated. 

“Do you wish to take me away from Martin?” he asked finally, getting to the point of the matter. “As the Desolation did with Jude? As the Lonely tried to do with Martin?” The corners of his mouth twisted downward into an ugly grimace at emerging thoughts. “I love Martin. He is braver than most I’ve ever known. I don’t think I could have the gall to burn statements in front of Elias… mostly because it would hurt me, but that is beside the point.” He slumped back into his chair, not taking his eyes off of It. The tape recorder was the closest thing It had to a physical manifestation, and so Jon would treat this as a face-to-face conversation. “And yet… Martin holds fear. Fear of losing me, fear of hurting people, fear of… fear of you. And I know you can sense that fear, the wisps of terror permeating the room. And yet he stays by my side, because he loves me, as I do him. No one has ever made me feel this… contentment with myself like Martin has. This sense of need. I don’t know what I would do if I lost him.”

His arms crossed, he noticed a familiar black car begin to pull up to the cabin. A smile graced his lips. “I will always love him…” The said smile soon faded with another glance to his patron. “I know you don’t wish to harm me… and I ask that the same goes for Martin. He deserves to be happy, and I want nothing more than to give that to him.” He couldn’t help the chuckle that passed his lips, pinching the bridge of his nose. “God, I feel like a teenager asking a father to take his daughter out on a date. But the sentiment is still the same.” He let out a sigh as he watched his love bring the groceries out of the car. Martin had remembered an umbrella; that was comforting to know. He supposed he should go help him. The smile had returned. “Don’t try to separate us, please. I won’t let you harm him… I won’t let you feed off of him. I may belong to you but… he is mine. I will let you eat away at me until I whither and die if I must, but I won’t let you hurt him. You can find a new Archivist if that’s the case, because I could never find another Martin. I don’t know if you can even choose victims, but it doesn’t matter. If even an inkling of your being can understand what I am saying, know that you’ll have to share my devotion with Martin, because as much as I am now willing to serve you and your need for torment and terror, Martin will always be my top priority.”

The tape continued to whir, showing there was still a listener, but Jonathan had nothing more to say. He got up from his seat, preparing to help Martin with groceries. “Perhaps this was a waste of time; the idea that you beings could even experience emotion, much less jealousy, is laughable. But I felt it appropriate to tell you anyways.” His finger reached for the player, grazing the depressed red button. “Statement en—“

His hand seized up when a wave of information flooded his mind. He didn’t want to Know, but it came to him without expectation. Thoughts, feelings that were not his own, experiences that rocked his body; all of these filled his head, forcing him to sit back down so he wouldn’t stumble and fall from the impact hitting his mind. 

Martin. It was Martin’s head, that much he knew, taking place several nights before when Jon had gone to the village. Thoughts of Jonathan had run through Martin’s mind at the time, feelings of love and longing and pining. The possessiveness and jealousy that coursed whenever his precious Archivist got too friendly with one of the neighbors. Jonathan already knew all of this; Martin’s feelings had been no secret amongst the employees when they had worked for the institute. But the things he  _ hadn’t  _ known, oh how they made his knees weak.

First thing he had felt was the swelling love Martin had for him. Love and desire and  _ need _ . Late night thoughts and the occasional fantasy were what followed, along with that sensation of need, of _ heat _ ; every sensation Martin placed on himself was felt throughout Jonathan’s body, as if he was feeling his love’s hands on him directly. A hand was over his stomach, rubbing to find those sensitive areas that needed a caress. Martin’s neck was one such area, as Jon could feel the wave of pleasure when the sensation of fingers gently grazing his collarbone was brought up. He could hear those moans in his head, clearly envisioning the images that Martin had fantasized about during those sleepless nights. The whisper of Jonathan’s name on his lips was indistinguishable from the sounds found in reality. The emotions felt real; the  _ love  _ Martin had for him filled his soul and the  _ desire  _ lit a fire in his core.

Jon quickly sank his teeth into his knuckle to keep himself from crying out the moment he felt a fist around his cock. Martin loved Jon, and he  _ wanted  _ Jon in a way the Archivist had never really considered. He fantasized about nights of love and passion, being able to hold the one he loved and kiss him and please him and make him feel good because it was what he deserved. Martin’s desires became Jonathan’s own, his thighs squeezing together to try and stifle the hardness that begged to be released and touched.

He could hear Martin come into the kitchen, only a room or so away, soon getting onto the task of putting away groceries. Jon’s face was flushed of hot, his teeth digging into his knuckle to keep himself from making a sound that would alert the other. Within his head, those memories of Martin wouldn’t cease transmitting each sensation and moan directly to his head, setting his nerves aflame. He felt Martin caress the soft, hot skin of his chest, tweaking a nipple and sending Jon jolting in his seat. He could hear him mewl, lost in his own pleasure and fantasies. “ _ Jon… _ ” he whispered in the darkness, calling for Jonathan—  _ needing _ Jonathan.

“Martin…” he sighed breathlessly in turn, breathing labored and his will to not slide his hand downward slowly chipping away. A hand was forced over his mouth to stifle a gasp when he felt that fist give his cock a generous pump, back arching to the fantasies he so desperately wanted to fulfil. Pressed up against Martin, rocking against him and feeling so deliciously full of the heat only he could provide. Those fingers wrapped around him so perfectly, a thumb coming up to rub against the sensitive head. From there was a steady flow of pleasure as the fist stroked him slowly. Legs spread but knees shakily pressed together, Jon had to place both arms on the desk in a desperate attempt to stabilize himself. “Don’t stop. Please,” he begged under his breath like a prayer; whether it was to Beholding or to Martin he couldn’t tell. All he knew was that he needed the release. Another stroke and he bit his lip, hand pawing at the erection between his legs. He no longer wanted to Know what pleasures Martin had experienced that night; no, he needed the real thing. He needed that soft caress against his skin; he wanted to be the one sending waves of pleasure at the kiss of a collarbone. 

When the stroking suddenly started up at a faster pace, Jon slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from crying out from the sudden overstimulation, fist slamming onto the table on instinct. He was seeing stars, jolting at every wave of pleasure from Martin’s touches. The hot hand around him was only becoming more desperate by the second, coming so close to release. The dreams and fantasies became even more vivid; chest to chest, love and need and passion coursing through every movement and whispered adoration.

“Jon?”

_ “Jon… I need you.” _

Martin  _ needed  _ him, just as Jon needed Martin. He needed him like the oxygen he breathed. A lust-clouded mind didn’t haze over the fact that Jonathan needed every kiss and loving word. He didn’t think he could survive a day without seeing him smile or hearing him laugh. 

“Martin…”

“Jon, is everything alright?”

He didn’t even realize he was sobbing, the pleasure paired with the love Martin filled with him and held in his thoughts being too much for him to handle. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you—“ His voice was on a loop like a broken tape recorder stuck on replay. He was so close, just at the edge of release, but it was like a barrier was holding him; a thin piece of film that he was so close to breaking through. Every pleasurable stroke brought him closer to the edge than he ever believed possible, and yet he could never get past that point of no return. 

“Jon?! Jon, what happened!”

It was torture how much his mind wouldn’t allow him the deliverance he so desperately craved. He needed Martin more than he needed air or water or statements; he needed to hold onto him and kiss him and never let him go

“I love you I love you I l—“

A touch to his arm was all that it took. Caring fingers caressed the Archivist’s skin, soothing the nerves like cool honey. It sent a bolt of electrifying sensation rocketing through Jon’s body, so strong even Martin pulled his hand away when his fingers tingled at the mere touch. Sims threw himself back in his chair when he was suddenly granted that break past that barrier that had held him back. The cry of release was only stifled by both hands clamped over his mouth. The force of his movement was so strong, the chair tilted back and would have toppled to the floor if it wasn’t for Martin catching him and helping him sit upright. The larger man was all panic, having found his boyfriend in this state upon returning from the store. Slick with sweat, sobbing, repeating Martin’s name and cries of love. The tape recorder was on, a sure sign that something had definitely gone down. With hesitation, he moved to touch Jon once more with a grab for his hand. “Jon, please, calm down. Tell me what happened. W-was it Elias? Did he find us somehow?”

Jonathan couldn’t respond, his head still fuzzy, but at least his Knowing of all of Martin’s late night desires had ceased post-climax. Once his mind was able to get past the haze, he found himself the most relaxed he had felt in years. It was like a weight had been thrown off of his shoulders and his mind had been cleared of all worries. He felt mentally exhausted, but still clear enough to understand his surroundings. He was finally aware of his wet cheeks, drying them after a swipe of tissue offered by Martin. “I’m fine. I just—“

Jon’s eyes met Martin’s and it was like something clicked into place. A warm smile graced his face and he immediately wrapped his arms around the other’s neck, burying his face into his chest. “You’re home,” he whispered. “God, I love you so much, Martin. More than anything this world could possibly have to offer. Thank you…”

Martin was obviously taken aback, bewilderment evident in the contortion of his face and the inability to decide what to do with his hands. The only thing he really only could do was hug him back, he supposed, and he did so lovingly. At this returned embrace, he felt Jon melt in his arms. He would find it endearing had it not been for the heart attack he nearly had moments before. He let Jon relax against him for a minute or so, before finally popping the question. “Jon… what just happened?”

A soft sigh left the smaller man as he tried to come up with something that would tide Martin over for now. He would tell him later on, but right now he didn’t have the energy for it. “It… it was a statement,” he replied tiredly. “It was more intense than I had anticipated.” A frown was brought to his face when Martin pulled away.

His boyfriend had a steady grip on his shoulders, gentle blue eyes staring into tired greens with an intensity that was rarely ever seen. “Tell me which statement I need to burn,” Martin demanded, eliciting a laugh from Jon.

“Martin… no, I…” Jon let out a sigh, his smile reassuring Martin that everything was fine. “I’ll explain it to you later, I just… right now I’m glad you’re home.” He gave his love a soft hug. “I love you,” he whispered.

The blonde didn’t understand, but he didn’t try to push it. “I love you, too.” The embrace was returned once more, giving Jon a soft kiss on the head. “Perhaps you need a shower? A washing up, and then we can talk about it over tea. How does that sound?”

Jon was in bliss at the thought of having Martin’s tea. “That sounds… perfect,” he nodded, finally pulling himself away to look his boyfriend in the eye. “I promise, I’m fine. Talk to you over tea, alright?”

Martin was rightfully hesitant, but didn’t argue, trusting Jon would tell him if something was truly wrong. “I’ll get the kettle going.”

“Lovely,” Jon smiled wearily, leaning in to give Martin a kiss on the collarbone. His partner was stunned by the kiss, hand instinctively moving to touch the spot. His cheeks heated some, but he didn’t say anything about it, believing Jon would think him weird for getting flushed over one of his more sensitive spots. “Of course.” With that, he got up and left the room, only pausing to look back at Jon, who gave a reassuring wave. 

Once the door was closed, the Archivist turned in his seat to stare at the tape recorder, still on and recording without remorse.

“I suppose this means you approve then, hmm?” No response. “Listen…” he murmured softly, hands clasped as he considered the player. “You can… you can just tell me when I want to Know something. Pop it into my head.” He let out a ragged sigh, running his fingers through roots slick with sweat. “I know I know— the entities are forces that can’t be explained or properly comprehended by mortal minds, but… but I am your Archivist. I am a part of you and I feed you. So… I believe I at least deserve a  _ warning  _ next time you decide to give me the most  _ Earth-shattering climax of my life. _ ”

The only response was the whirring of the tape.

Jon huffed, awkwardly coming to a stand now that he had made a mess of his baggy sweatpants. “I suppose I should be glad I have your blessing, so to speak…” His hand reached for the player. “I just wish you would have simply given me a straight answer.” His finger paused over the red depressed button. “I… I just need him.”

It was there that Jonathan Knew. The Eye didn’t wish to harm him, nor would It harm his beloved despite his enticing fear, so long as Jon knew he belonged to It. He was fine with that. By this point, he had embraced his role, a job now turned to devotion. But Martin was safe and would be with him, and that was all that mattered. It seemed the Eye at least comprehended mercy.

“Statement ends.” 

As soon as that telltale click was heard, he pulled out the cassette tape. “A new discovery, it seems,” he murmured to himself, considering the tape. “Entities can’t get jealous… but Martin certainly can, which is why I am hiding  _ you _ in a place he will never find you.”

With a chuckle and a shake of his head, he went to take his shower, eager to join his boyfriend for tea.

**Author's Note:**

> tl;dr: Jon wants to keep Martin safe and then ascends after the best nut of his life.


End file.
